


Slip of the Tongue

by TrulyCertain



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Dragon Age 100 Challenge, F/M, non-established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyCertain/pseuds/TrulyCertain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because I lo - “ He closes his mouth so fast it clicks, shutting his eyes. He opens them again after a moment, taking a step backwards.</p>
<p>As if he’s let slip something important. As if he’s made a confession.</p>
<p>She takes a step towards him, unable to believe what she thinks she heard. She’s an elf, she’s a mage, she’s the Inquisitor, he can’t...  This isn’t the Fade. This isn’t some embarrassing, half-woven daydream. He can’t.</p>
<p>“Finish that sentence,” she orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip of the Tongue

Ellana still can’t believe it. The  _nerve_ of him. Usually he’s respectful, even when he’s disagreeing with her, but today... 

She thought they were  _friends._ (She wanted them to be... No, she can’t even consider it, it’s unprofessional and it’s foolish, and she needs to stop looking at him. She needs to stop looking at the way the sunlight glints off his hair, the breadth of his shoulders. She needs to stop thinking about the way her heart sinks when he talks about the withdrawals and flips in her chest when he smiles at her...  _No._ Now is not the time. She’s beginning to realize that there will never be a time.)

She walks into his office without even bothering to knock, and then stands in front of his desk,  _glaring_  at him. He looks up once from the report he’s writing, then returns to it. “Inquisitor.”

"Don’t you  _dare -_ What was that mess in the war room?”

Now he looks up, putting down his quill and crossing his arms. “What mess?” He says it calmly, but the look in his eyes, his body language - both tell her that he knows very well.

“You called me idiotic!”

He raises a brow. “I called your  _decision_ idiotic. Not you.”

“You shouted me down!”

“No, I think that was you.”

“I wasn’t... You call me  _Inquisitor,_  and then you go and blatantly disrespect my choices like that - “

“I’m your adviser, and  _disagreement_ is not the same as disrespect.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“What should I have said? Taking on a dragon with a party of four is  _madness_!” His voice is raised now, and she feels some petty satisfaction that she’s pissed him off, too.

“No, it’s conserving resources! We don’t have enough men to waste more of them in Crestwood, and something has to be done before it ruins more townspeople’s lives!” She sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I’m going to assemble my party.” She turns to leave.

She hears the scrape of his chair, and she’s halfway to the door when she feels his hand on her arm. “Ellana.” His voice is rough. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was... I was concerned. At least bring backup of some kind.” 

She whirls to look at him. “’Concerned’? Why does this matter to you so much?”

“I know your intentions are good, but if you face that dragon with such a small group, there’s a good chance you’ll die, and I can’t....” He looks away from her then, his eyes on the floor.

Not a good enough explanation. “Bull, Dorian, Varric - they’re all willing. And it’s my body to burn, not yours. Why did you have to be so - ?”

“I let my emotions get the better of me. I shouldn’t have.”

“Why  _this_? Why now?”

“Don’t make me... I can’t watch you walk to your death again.”

“What,” she sneers, “because your pride won’t allow it? Because it’ll be another stick for you to beat yourself with?” Low. She knows of his guilt about Haven because he confided in her. She shouldn’t be throwing that back at him, and she instantly regrets it.

“Because I lo - “ He closes his mouth so fast it clicks, shutting his eyes. He opens them again after a moment, taking a step backwards.

As if he’s let slip something important. As if he’s made a confession.

She takes a step towards him, unable to believe what she thinks she heard. She’s an elf, she’s a  _mage,_ she’s the Inquisitor, he can’t...  This isn’t the Fade. This isn’t some embarrassing, half-woven daydream. He can’t.

“Finish that sentence,” she orders.

Another step back. Away from her. “I - I shouldn’t.” He can’t look at her; his gaze flits around the room as if he’s trying to find a way out. 

She takes a couple of more steps towards him, into his space. She looks him in the eye, forcing him to actually keep his gaze on her, and then she rises on her toes, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. “Cullen,  _please.”_

He looks at her, afraid, indecisive, hesitation written in every line of his body. “Ellana - I... I should... There’s work that I...“ He seems to give up, and he leans in, closes the last few inches, and kisses her. Everything about it is gentle, tentative, as if he’s waiting to be refused. It’s the softest, briefest brush of lips, his hand under her chin.

Then he draws back and turns, strides back to his desk. The moment, him - they’re gone before she can even really register them. He stoops to pick up a few pieces of parchment. “Leliana wanted some reports delivered. Immediately.” 

He could easily send a runner. Most of the time, he would. She knows what this is - it’s an excuse, and not even a particularly good one.

“Cullen...”

He says nothing, but his shoulders are slumped, and he runs a hand over his forehead with the smallest exhale, as if he’s frustrated by his own ineptitude. In a moment, he’ll leave. Things will be awkward and awful, and this chance will be gone. Neither of them will be brave enough to bring it up again.

Somehow, she makes herself ask, “Were you going to say you love me?”

It’s nothing more than a breath, so quiet she almost doesn’t hear it. "Yes.” He looks at her, and his eyes are terribly, terribly sad. “Forgive me.” Then he heads towards the door -

\- and she all but runs, taking the few steps to get to him and tug at him, turning him, reaching up to pull him down and press her mouth to his. It’s awkward and graceless. She hears him drop the reports in his surprise, the sound of them fluttering to the ground, and for a moment he’s frozen - then he runs his hands over her shoulders, her neck, cupping her face and pulling her closer. His hands are still gloved, the leather warm and rough against her skin, but his mouth is soft, even as the kiss deepens, lengthens.

She pulls away, watching him carefully. 

He opens his eyes, still sounding a little breathless. “Oh,” he says very quietly, leagues away from the loud, commanding man she sees with the troops. He smiles, and it’s a slow, blossoming thing that seems to surprise them both. His eyes are so tender that she nearly has to look away. “I didn’t think...” He kisses her again, and she can feel him smiling.

She’s still going to have to deal with the dragon, and that will still cause its fair share of arguments, but it’ll be easier now that she has something more to come back to. Someone.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age 100 Challenge prompt "Love". Originally posted on [my Tumblr](http://trulycertain.tumblr.com/).


End file.
